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“Mr. Gillingham. You have some news, I’ve been told. Quickly, tell me what it is, I have the French ambassador waiting.”
“I will, Ma’am, but I fear you will not like it.”
“But that is no reason not to tell me,” she replied tartly.
Arnold took the hint. “Lady Ellerslie is in Norfolk with Mr. Marcus Worthorne. I fear, Your Majesty, that she is lost to all reason. My wife can hardly bear to think of how this news will affect the memory of her father—”
“Do you mean that she is living there with him? Alone?”
“Well…not quite. Her mother, Mrs. Stroud, is also there, and her maid.”
Victoria seemed nonplussed. “Then she is adequately chaperoned?”
“Ma’am, I didn’t just come here to tell you of Lady Ellerslie’s whereabouts. I wanted to ask for your help. My wife and I have tried our best to talk sense into Lady Ellerslie, but to no avail. This man is a rake and a fortune hunter, the worst sort of person to attach himself to a vulnerable lady. You have so much influence over her, and as she admires you greatly, we had hoped…But it is too much to ask.”
Victoria sighed impatiently. “Ask your favor, sir. You should know by now that I prefer plain speaking.”
He bowed. “Very well. Would you go to her, Ma’am? Would you do us the very great honor of meeting Lady Ellerslie and using your influence on her? If we can bring her back to London before her whereabouts are discovered and the scandal breaks, then surely it would be to everyone’s advantage. Your Majesty, I ask this not only for myself and Lady Ellerslie, but for the sake of her dear husband, Lord Ellerslie, and his revered memory.”
Victoria would have refused him, it was on the tip of her tongue to do so, but the appeal to the memory of Lord Ellerslie had struck her to the heart. And it was true, there would be a terrible scandal. Did the government, the country, need such gossip and distress, when she could prevent it? Despite Portia’s recent behavior she was fond of her, and the children adored her. It would be a shame if Portia destroyed herself over a man unworthy to wipe dear Lord Ellerslie’s boots.
Victoria might have been a stickler for the rules of church and society, but she was not a fool, and she was certainly not a prude. She knew that if she could rescue Portia from Marcus Worthorne’s clutches, it would be better for everyone concerned.
“What you are asking is very unorthodox, sir,” she said coldly.
He was about to reply when she held up her hand to stop him.
“Lady Ellerslie is a dear friend of mine, it is true, and I was extremely fond of her husband. But how do you know she will listen to me? This Worthorne man seems to have her under his spell.”
“Your Majesty, this is unfortunately true, but I am sure if she could but speak with you and see what she is risking, she would come instantly to her senses. Only you can save her now.”
The words were theatrical, and for him, out of character, but afterward Arnold considered them a stroke of genius. To come here and ask such things of the queen was audacious, but he had nothing to lose by it. And as he watched the expressions flit across her face, he knew that, against all odds, he had convinced her.
She informed him curtly that they were to set off in two days time, and would travel as discreetly as possible, to prevent bringing about the very situation they were attempting to prevent.
When Arnold knew he was going to Duval Hall, it was all he could do not to rub his hands together as he backed away from Victoria’s presence.
Chapter 28
The sluice gate had been mended. Portia, watching Marcus, was aware of a sense of pride in him that was growing day by day. It seemed as if new facets of his character were being revealed to her since they’d come here to Duval Hall, or perhaps she had been too caught up in her problems before to look properly.
How could she have ever thought him nothing more than a handsome idler? Oh, he was handsome; her heart still beat faster whenever she saw him. But he was a complicated man, with strength and compassion and determination and intelligence…She could go on all day.
When he looked at her with the sparkling warmth in his eyes he saved for her alone, she felt humbled and proud. And afraid. There was so much to be got over before she could think of being his wife. But she did think of it, all the time. It had become the image she clung to.
Sebastian was still at the hall. Portia had asked him to escort her back to London when the time came, and he’d agreed. They did not mention it, however. Marcus still refused to contemplate such a thing. But it would have to be soon. Would he forgive her when she left him behind? Or would he refuse to remain and come with them?
The thought of what might happen to him made her feel sick, so she didn’t say anything. She waited. And time grew short.
“I have asked Portia to marry me,” Marcus told his brother, making no secret of it.
Sebastian chuckled. “You do surprise me, brother.”
“We haven’t set a date,” Portia said, giving Marcus a little frown. “Such a thing cannot possibly be decided yet.”
“Of course it can,” Marcus replied. “You only need to say the word and I’ll have you before the altar so fast your head will spin.” His smile teased but he meant what he said.
Sebastian had been watching their byplay. “Do you know, Marcus may be right for once. Marriage might be a way of diverting the scandal, and who knows, there could even be some sympathy for you both.”
